the listener, who listens in the snow

i know it, but i manage to forget every year. the way to come to terms with winter and the weather that comes (constantly) with it, the way to answer the question, "why do i live in maine of all places?" is to go outside. i mean, to expand my horizons beyond my driveway, where i spend plenty of time.

to be able to jump in the car, drive ten minutes, and be here, just mark, minnow, me, and one lone photographer balancing his tripod precariously at the edge of the jagged rocks? how many people are that lucky?

we wore our snowshoes, and i wore gaiters (which i'm usually too lazy to put on, but they are pretty magical when i do wear them). minnow found himself up to his furry armpits in snow several times. it was quiet and bright and gorgeous.